I washed myself, toweled off as best I could and put on mycocktail waitress dress. I swallowed and tried to be depressed aboutthe situation, but some...ow things really didn't seem that bad. I hadjust had sex with a rich, handsome guy who gave me multiple orgasms. Iwas about to start my shift at a job I loved. I was really pretty. Ibrushed my hair and saw the nametag on my dress. "Brandi," it said.Underneath it was printed, "Normal, Illinois."I smiled. Normal, Illinois. I remembered. There were long seconds of breathlessness as she negligently smothered me, concerned only with her pleasure, but her gasps became as loud as mine as she worked herself to another peak.Her squeal of ecstasy came with another shower of nectars. She settled from a squat to a kneel as she leaned on her hands, sighing with pleasure. Although pinning my arms, it gave me room to breathe and to lap at her slick pleats.In no hurry to escape my captivity, I was startled to feel her tugging at my belt.. "Billy had done more than a dozen virgins, including his sister, and had to admit her enjoyed the idea of making girls into women. It made him feel very manly, grown-up. The feel on their virginal blood on his proud phallus was great, and he insisted they do it missionary so he could see their expression when he ripped them open. His little sister had promoted about half of those pleasurable deflowerings.Billy was fifteen and he knew that kids under sixteen were not supposed to have sex, but he. With studied nonchalance she stepped onto the bridge. I coughed."Are you sure it's safe?" Oh yes it's quite..." she realised that she was still holding the rod with the rusty star. She recovered well, with only the smallest of blushes, as she returned the rod to its previous resting place. Carrying the rod over the crystal bridge was the sort of mistake one was only supposed to make once. "... safe."I followed her onto the bridge. Pleased that I could be the tourist without having to playact.
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